“Maybe I can,” he said with a sinful grin. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. “When you can run around the estate three times without Ywena shocking you, we’ll move on to the next drill.”
“Three times?” I raised a brow at him as I finally stood.
“You’re woefully in need of conditioning.” He turned back down the path, leading us toward the quiet, sun-drenched lawns outside of the estate. “We can’t have you passing out when you threadmend. Which will be soon.”
I frowned, remembering the concern that had lit Orin’s eyes at the thought of me mending Tasia’s small cut. “He doesn’t want me to try and cure anything until I’m ready.”
Rorik snorted. “And I’m sure you know my brother better than me. What, a little glimpse beneath his glamour and suddenly you think you’re special?”
“At least he believes I can do it,” I said as we rounded the last bend of the trail. “Will I start with Mavis?”
Rorik said nothing for a long moment, instead waiting untilwe’d crossed the threshold of the dark woods. “No. Most likely an animal. Some of our beasts have become infected as well. They’ll be good practice.”
“Better to practice on them than the likes of you,” I grumbled.
At that, he laughed. “I would never let you practice on me. Not mending, anyway.”
My lips curled in disdain. “As if I would entertain the idea of anything else.”
He rolled his eyes. “But you would with Orin? You do realize all Evers are the same beneath the veil.”
“How do you mean?”
“Arrogant and selfish, as I’m sure you’re aware.” He brushed a stray pine needle off his pants, casting a cursory look at the Ever tree as we passed. Likely every ancestor of his was just as vile, but it wasn’t nice to speak ill of the dead... out loud.
So instead, I rolled my eyes. “Too bad I have no hopes of curing arrogance.”
“Nobody’s perfect,” he said with a shrug.
“As an Ever, I suppose you’re the forefront on that opinion,” I said.
Rorik gave me a sidelong glance. “I’m dying to know what slight against my kind you’re going to deliver next.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “You all are so obsessed with glamour, with hiding any semblance of imperfection. Of course an Ever would be the one who most innately understands the concept of never being able to achieve it.
“What I don’t understand,” I continued when all he did was snort, “is why. Why hide the features that make you unique? That speak to your power?”
“Because it’s a pain to display those but keep everything else under wraps.”
“You’re immortal. Why hide what doesn’t age?”
“Not all magic is pretty,” he responded, voice low.
He stared straight ahead, thin lines creasing between his brows and lips pressed tightly together. I doubted there was a single blemish on his skin that could compare with a mortal scar, but I knew nothing about the ramifications of the first Ever infusing magic into her bones and passing those traits off to her kind. I tilted my head slightly, itching to call on my power and see if there was any way to pierce his veil. To get a glimpse of what lay beneath. He caught me watching and grinned.
“Enjoy the view?”
“There’s not much to look at.”Lie.Ywena shocked me at the twinge in my pulse, but I fought to keep my expression even. Somehow, I imagined Rorik still knew. Something akin to desire flickered through his eyes.
“Time for drills.” He folded his arms across his chest. “We’ll let up when the sun sets.”
True to his word, Rorik ran me through a series of exercises, each one leaving me more breathless than the last. From balancing on one foot with my other knee raised to my chest, to lying on the ground and cycling my legs, he pushed me through it all. Ywena shocked me the entire time. There wasn’t a single moment where my breath was steady, and by the time the sun edged toward the horizon, I was a mess of shaking limbs and sweat.
Rorik chuckled as he tipped his head toward the evening sky. “That’s enough. Dinner should be ready soon. Shall we?”
I barely had the energy to grumble a response. We walked the rest of the way to the manor in silence, the only sound marking our approach the crunch of grass beneath our feet. When he opened the doors to the hall, however, we were met with a swell of heated words spoken together in a rush. Rorik tensed immediately, and the soft ease of his stance disappeared. He scowled as he strolled forward, leading us into the crowded dining room where the rest of the family sat before empty plates and full goblets.
“Finally. Now we can eat.” Seville reclined in her chair and flicked her hand over her shoulder. An attendant stepped away from the wall and moved about the table, effortlessly filling plates before returning to her station.
